Becky starts stirring, eventually. She'd woken up within a few seconds of being tossed in the trunk, but the rattling and bumping... she slipped back into unconsciousness somewhere on the way.
She groans, and squints a little against the light. Her head is pounding, her ears are ringing a bit.
"Where'm I?" she mumbles, trying to focus on her surroundings. It's difficult. She is pretty damn sure that she's gotten a nasty bump on the head. She's not sure how, but it makes sense.
"With me. Of course." Calisto smiles, though she's not touching Becky, she's playing with a man who's shackled nearby, dragging a sword across his chest.
She's too startled right now to do anything but look at the man.
Scared. God, so scared, and then there's teeth and claws and pain and screaming, and the last coherent thought he has is that he'll never see his daughter born. Then there's nothing.
Becky gasps, and tries to jerk back. She's shaking. And all the humans in the shackles, all the normal, everyday humans... if they're looking at her, they can't see her anymore.
This is not good. This is so very very not good.
"No," she whispers, and feels tears well up in her eyes, still not able to look away from the terrified man. He's not even thirty years old, only been married for ten months. His wife's pregnant and due any day. "No, please, don't do this."
Calisto laughs and jerks the man up, unlocking the cage. A single glare from her sends the beast backing off until she can throw the man in and lock it back up, again.
Beautiful, glorious, screams of pain and blood and the beast makes a meal of him so quickly.
And it's not just his screams, but of the other humans watching, knowing what waits for them. Just a few seconds away.
Becky's gasping. Crying. Not sobbing, not yet. But she'll beg. For their sakes, she will fucking beg, if she can just get Calisto to let one go, just one...
"Please don't do this." She literally can't stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "Don't hurt them, they haven't done anything!"
A kid, just a kid, she can tell, and god, she doesn't want to look.
But she doesn't want to have the guilt of knowingly letting her die completely alone, either.
She looks up.
It's slower than the last one. It's not as hungry, and it likes to play a little. Claws. It rips off her leg and chews on it for a few moments before moving on to the rest of her. It's painful. And it's not quick.
"I'm sorry," she sobs, her blue eyes locked on the girl's green ones. "I'm so so sorry..."
Becky's voice is not going to last long at this rate. She's screaming, at the top of her lungs screaming, because she is fighting oh so hard to take the pain. As uch as she can.
This is her fault. She deserves to take it.
She's straining at the ropes, trying to get free, and then when it's done, she collapses back against the chair.
Physically, she's fine, except for the ropes tied too tight and cutting into her arms and wings, staining the ropes pearly white. Becky doesn't even notice Calisto leave, and some faceless, nameless follower eagerly take her place.
Another. Another. Another. Even the monster's not a bottomless pit, though, and when it's been sated, the killings don't stop. They just change.
Some quicker than others. Strangulation. Gunshots. Knives. Poison. Bleach. Ice picks. Some quicker than others, but none quick. None painless. There's not a mark on her, except for the matted blood in her hair, and the marks from the rope, but after a while, she starts seeing the injuries on herself, bleeding alternately white, red, black.
She passes out at some point. Blissful dark. And then she wakes up and it starts again.
She's forgotten who she is. She's forgotten why she's here. She's forgotten everything before this stream of deaths that never seems to stop.
She groans, and squints a little against the light. Her head is pounding, her ears are ringing a bit.
"Where'm I?" she mumbles, trying to focus on her surroundings. It's difficult. She is pretty damn sure that she's gotten a nasty bump on the head. She's not sure how, but it makes sense.
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"Where else would you be?"
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What is she doing?
"Leave him... leave him alone." She can't think right. She must've hit her head really hard.
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"Look at him." She forces him to his knees and says it, again. "Look in his eyes."
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Scared. God, so scared, and then there's teeth and claws and pain and screaming, and the last coherent thought he has is that he'll never see his daughter born. Then there's nothing.
Becky gasps, and tries to jerk back. She's shaking. And all the humans in the shackles, all the normal, everyday humans... if they're looking at her, they can't see her anymore.
This is not good. This is so very very not good.
"No," she whispers, and feels tears well up in her eyes, still not able to look away from the terrified man. He's not even thirty years old, only been married for ten months. His wife's pregnant and due any day. "No, please, don't do this."
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Beautiful, glorious, screams of pain and blood and the beast makes a meal of him so quickly.
And it's not just his screams, but of the other humans watching, knowing what waits for them. Just a few seconds away.
She could do this all day long.
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It doesn't help that she tried to unfurl her wings, instinctively, against her will, and now they're trapped between her back and the chair, crushed.
And then he's gone, so quickly, and Becky is so fucking glad that it's quick, because she couldn't take it if it was slow.
No.
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"Maybe now that it's had some food, it'll be willing to play with it a little more. What do you think?"
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"Please don't do this." She literally can't stop the words from coming out of her mouth. "Don't hurt them, they haven't done anything!"
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Calisto picks up another one, a young girl this time, unlocking the shackles on her ankles.
She struggle, of course, which just makes Calisto grab the girl more tightly and painfully force them forward.
And then she forces the girl on her knees , roughly, they scrape against the pavement beneath her.
"Look at her. Becky. She has really pretty green eyes."
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But she doesn't want to have the guilt of knowingly letting her die completely alone, either.
She looks up.
It's slower than the last one. It's not as hungry, and it likes to play a little. Claws. It rips off her leg and chews on it for a few moments before moving on to the rest of her. It's painful. And it's not quick.
"I'm sorry," she sobs, her blue eyes locked on the girl's green ones. "I'm so so sorry..."
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And it is slow.
And lovely.
And there's so much screaming.
The warehouse seems to be filled with screaming and it's wonderful to feel all of this pain.
What a fantastic way to die filled by all of this pain.
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This is her fault. She deserves to take it.
She's straining at the ropes, trying to get free, and then when it's done, she collapses back against the chair.
It's going to be a long day.
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And she doesn't even have to be here to enjoy it.
She can get one of her lackeys to do this until Becky passes out and she'll be able to feel it all.
This is the best day ever.
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Physically, she's fine, except for the ropes tied too tight and cutting into her arms and wings, staining the ropes pearly white. Becky doesn't even notice Calisto leave, and some faceless, nameless follower eagerly take her place.
Another. Another. Another. Even the monster's not a bottomless pit, though, and when it's been sated, the killings don't stop. They just change.
Some quicker than others. Strangulation. Gunshots. Knives. Poison. Bleach. Ice picks. Some quicker than others, but none quick. None painless. There's not a mark on her, except for the matted blood in her hair, and the marks from the rope, but after a while, she starts seeing the injuries on herself, bleeding alternately white, red, black.
She passes out at some point. Blissful dark. And then she wakes up and it starts again.
She's forgotten who she is. She's forgotten why she's here. She's forgotten everything before this stream of deaths that never seems to stop.
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